← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Margherita's Pizza Portrait Gallery 🍕
00:27:32
Through Margherita's support, Libby remembers that even when making new friends feels hard, she already has the best friend she could ask for.
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A Short Message for Grown Ups Parents We've all had those times when the whole family is off on their own screens. Wouldn't it be great to find something active and fun that everyone agrees on? Families everywhere are discovering Next Playground, an active gain system where your body powers the play. No controllers or wearables, just natural 100% motion driven fun. Fly with how to Train youn Dragon, Dance with Barbie, Pop Bubbles in Gabby's Dollhouse or Master Moves with Kung Fu Panda all from your living room. Even better, Next Playground is totally kid safe. No ads, no in app purchases and no mature content. Just good clean fun for long summer days. Want to learn more? Visit nextplayground.com that's nexplayground.com to explore active family gaming today. A Short Message for Grown Ups if your little one loves Bluey, here's something new that might spark hours of joyful, imaginative play. Bluey Chatmates with just a press of the nose, these beloved characters come to life chatting with 10 fan favorite phrases including some of the most iconic lines from the show. There's Bluey, Bingo and Muffin, plus some extra fun versions like Bingo with her scooter and helmet and Rita with her granny mobile, glasses and Grabber. Each chatmate is 6 inches tall, just the right size for little hands and comes with movable arms and legs for easy posing and storytelling. Whether they're recreating favorite scenes or dreaming up new ones, kids will love growing their own Bluey world one giggle at a time. Bluey Chatmates is available at all major retailers. Hello friends and welcome to Sleep Tight. Stream Stories. Each week we share a few shout outs and birthday wishes for listeners who help support the show. It's a small way we say thank you and it always makes us smile. A big hello to Camille and her little brother Benjamin, 10 years old from Lausanne, Switzerland. A super belated birthday shout out for Lydia from Birmingham, Alabama who turned the Big Ten on September 2nd. Mummy and Daddy are so proud of the spunky, awesome lioness you are. We Isla and pup Sophie love you to the end of the galaxy and back. Happy Birthday to Iggy from Kansas. We are so proud of you. Love your mom, dad and Loretta. Happy Birthday Ella. Mommy, Daddy and Maggie. Love you very much. They're so proud of you each and every day. Love you forever and always our Beanie. Happy ninth Birthday Ryan. Mom, dad and Winnie love you and are so proud of you. Happy 10th birthday Laith from Silver Spring, Maryland. We can't believe you are a whole decade old. We love you so much and are so proud of you. You are an amazing kid. So keep being yourself and we can't wait to see what your next decade has in store. Love Mama, Baba Zane and pancakes. Happy 11th birthday to our beautiful little girl, Rebecca. Dream big little bear and always remember how deeply loved you are. Enjoy your new sunny school in Anguilla. Love mom and dad and Happy 8th Birthday to Maven on September 20th. You are a happy, kind soul who lights up the world with your smile and your acts of kindness. Your family loves you. Happy Birthday to you all and thank you for supporting the show. If you'd like to support our podcast and enjoy ad free episodes, unlock bonus stories and so much more, you can join sleept Premium subscribe in just two taps via the link in the show Notes. Now on to our story Libby has started school again and she is not enjoying it as much. All of her friends have different home rooms and she only gets to see them at lunchtime. Now will she be able to make new friends Margherita's Pizza Portrait Gallery Libby dragged her feet as she walked down the sidewalk toward home. She had her headphones on listening to music even though her mom told her not to. Something about being able to hear things around her. Normally she would listen, but today Libby needed her music. Music helped her relax and focus, and today she definitely needed the help. The wind was cool, so she pulled up her hood as she walked the final block home. Stupid school, she mumbled to herself. She walked up the steps to her house and opened the door to be greeted by Margarita, who was sitting patiently waiting for her. Ever since school started back up, Margarita seemed kind of depressed, like she missed Libby but blamed her for leaving. Or maybe she was just cold because Libby's mom refused to turn on the heat even though it was getting chilly outside. Margarita, libby said. I'm happy to see you. Did you miss me today? Or are you super hungry and want some pizza snacks? Margarita padded over closer and greeted Libby with a gentle headbutt and a soft meh, her signature way of saying hello. Libby sat down on the floor to give her silly orange cat a scratch behind the ears. Margarita purred and gave Libby a strange look, as if judging her for having her headphones on and her hood up indoors. I hope your day was better than mine. I bet it was. You probably just napped, right? Were you cozy under your blanket? I bet you dreamed about pizza and all the other things cats dream about, libby said with a deep sigh. Today was my third day of school and it isn't getting any better. All My friends are in different home rooms this year and some of them won't even be in the same art classes with me. We can meet at lunch, I guess, but they're already sitting with their new classmates and you know how hard it is for me around like new people. Margarita curled up closer in Libby's lap, her purring steady and soothing, a sound that made Libby feel just a little less terrible. You certainly love your scratches. I guess we both could use a pizza snack. Would you like one? I think we still have some left. Margarita stopped purring and perked up, almost like she knew exactly what Libby was talking about. Libby put her sneakers away and after dropping her backpack off in her bedroom, went to the kitchen to make some pizza snacks for her and Margarita. Okay, Margarita, looks like we're in luck. We have pepperoni pizza bites and cheese pizza bites. Which would you like? Libby held up first the pepperoni, then the cheese to see which Margarita might prefer. Margarita went meh when Libby raised the cheese kind. Good choice, libby said. Those pepperoni ones looked kind of suspicious to me. I think they might be from early spring or something. Sometimes pizza snacks get lost in the freezer and turn into little hockey pucks. Libby heated up a few for Margarita, placed them in her bowl, and watched as she started devouring them. She put her own on a plate and headed toward her bedroom to continue a painting she was working on and maybe tackle some homework. I'll be in my room. Come join me when you're done. But I'm not sharing my snacks this time. Last time you ate yours and mine. Libby set her plate down on her desk and took out her books from her backpack. Okay, what first? Math homework or painting? Libby said quietly to herself. Since no one's disagreeing, I think the choice is obvious. I'll work on my painting. Libby had been working on this portrait of Margarita eating a super sized slice of pizza for a couple of weeks and it was almost finished. After selecting her painting playlist, she put on her headphones and got to work. Whenever Libby listened to music and painted, time seemed to flash by. The world outside her room disappeared and there was nothing but colors and brushstrokes and the rhythm of her favorite songs. It wasn't until her playlist stopped an hour later that she looked at the clock and realized how much time had passed. Why hasn't Margarita come in to help me paint? She wondered aloud. Usually her orange cat would appear within minutes, either to sit on her desk and supervise or to knock over her water cup. The silence felt strange. Libby pulled off her headphones and stretched. Her back was stiff from hunching over the canvas, and her hand ached a little from gripping the paintbrush. Margarita? She called. Where are you, silly cat? No response. Not even a distant meow. Margarita? Still no response. Curious, Libby set down her brush and walked out of her room. Margarita, are you napping somewhere? As she stepped into the hallway, she stopped short. Pizza boxes everywhere. What in the world? Libby whispered, staring at the bizarre scene. They were lined up along the walls like paintings in a museum, each one carefully positioned at different heights and. And angles. There was the box from last Friday's dinner, propped against the wall near the bathroom. The one from two weeks ago when her mom had been too tired to cook, was positioned by the linen closet. Even the ancient box from her birthday party months ago, somehow rescued from the recycling bin and now displayed near her mother's bedroom door. And there was Margarita, sitting regally beside the first exhibit with her tail wrapped neatly around her paws, looking incredibly pleased with herself. When she saw Libby, she let out a proud meow and stood up, walking deliberately to the next box down the hall. Libby blinked, rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Nope, still there. Her cat had apparently spent the last hour creating the world's most ridiculous art installation. Margarita, Libby said slowly, trying not to laugh. What exactly have you been up to? Margarita meowed again, more insistently this time, and began walking toward the first pizza box. She sat down beside it with perfect posture, her orange tail curled around her paws like she was posing for a portrait herself. Oh, I see, libby said, catching on. You're giving me a tour, aren't you? Margarita blinked slowly, which Libby had learned was basically her way of saying obviously, and let out a more theatrical meh. She gestured with her head toward the pizza box, then looked back at Libby expectantly. Libby couldn't help herself. She started giggling. Okay, okay. Tell me about this piece, Madame Margarita. As if she'd been waiting for exactly this question, Margarita stood up and began what could only be described as a performance. She walked in a slow circle around the box, her tail held high and swishing dramatically. Then she sat back down and stared at the box with intense concentration, as if studying a priceless masterpiece. Ah, I see, libby said, trying to keep a straight face. This is clearly a commentary on, um, the fleeting nature of pizza. Margarita meowed approvingly. And then. And this was the part that made Libby burst into laughter. She leaned forward and sniffed the box deeply, closing her eyes like she was savoring a fine wine. You're ridiculous, libby said, wiping Tears from her eyes. What's next? Margarita immediately trotted to the second box, positioned near the linen closet. This one got an even more elaborate presentation. She circled it three times, paused to groom her paw, clearly part of the artistic process, and then sat down and began batting at a loose corner of the box with her paw, as if pointing out important details. Oh, this one has interactive elements, Libby observed. Very avant garde. But Margarita wasn't done. She suddenly flopped onto her side next to the box, stretching out dramatically like she was exhausted from all this art appreciation. Then she rolled onto her back, paws in the air, and gave Libby an upside down look that seemed to say, are you getting the emotional depth here? Libby was laughing so hard now that she had to lean against the wall for support. Margarita, you're absolutely crazy. Hearing her name, Margarita immediately flipped back over and pranced to the third box, the ancient one from the birthday party. This exhibition required the most dramatic presentation yet. Margarita approached it slowly, crouching low like she was stalking prey. Then she pounced, landing right in front of the box with all four paws spread wide as if protecting it from invisible art thieves. She held this pose for exactly three seconds, then sat down primly and began grooming herself as if the whole thing had been perfectly normal. That was. Wow, Libby managed between giggles. I think you missed your calling as a performance artist. But just as she said it, Margarita got distracted. A tiny piece of cheese had apparently been stuck to the corner of the birthday box, and she spotted it with laser focus. All artistic presents vanished as she stretched her neck as far as it would go, trying to reach the cheese crumb without actually moving from her spot. She stretched and stretched, her pink tongue poking out, but the crumb was just out of reach. Finally, she gave up on dignity entirely and dove for it, knocking the pizza box slightly askew in the process. And there's the real Margarita, libby said, shaking her head. The sophisticated art critic was nice, but we all know you're really just here for the cheese. Margarita, having successfully captured and devoured the crumb, looked up at Libby with old cheese bits on her whiskers and meowed indignantly, as if to say, I have no idea what you're talking about. This was always about the cheese. Just then, the front door opened and Libby heard her mother's keys jingling. Libby, I'm home. Why are there pizza boxes in the. Oh my goodness. Libby turned to see her mother standing at the end of the hallway, taking in the bizarre scene. Margarita, apparently deciding that two people made for a better audience, immediately trotted back to the first box and sat down in her regal pose, ready to start the whole tour over again. Mom, meet Margarita's Pizza Box Portrait Gallery, libby said, still giggling as her mother stood in the doorway, briefcase in one hand, staring at the hallway exhibition. Her mother set down her bag slowly, taking in the carefully arranged pizza boxes and Margarita, who was now performing her regal sitting pose for a new audience member. Well, her mom said finally, I have to admit this is definitely not what I expected to come home to. She walked closer to examine the first box. Is she giving tours? Oh, yes. Complete with dramatic interpretive movements and old cheese crumb intermissions, libby said. She put this together while I was painting. Margarita, clearly delighted to have a second viewer, stood up and began walking toward the linen closet box, looking back over her shoulder to make sure both humans were following. I think we're being summoned, libby's mom said with a laugh. We'd better follow. They followed Margarita through her abbreviated second tour, and Libby's mom played along, nodding seriously as Margarita performed her dramatic flop beside the birthday party box. She's quite the artist, her mother observed. Very well. I don't have your talent for art. Maybe we should clean this up before dinner. I don't think Pizza Box art is a permanent installation we want in our hallway. Probably not, libby agreed, though she felt a little sad dismantling Margarita's creation. As they gathered the boxes for recycling, her mom asked, so how was your day? Libby sighed, balancing three boxes in her arms. It's just the homeroom thing. All my friends are in a different home room than mine, and even at lunch. I mean, I thought I would see them at lunch, but they're already sitting with their new classmates when I get there. And you know how I find meeting new people hard. Her mom nodded thoughtfully as they walked to the kitchen. I know you find it hard. But you know what? You made those friends in the first place, which means you can make new ones too. It might take time. You have your own process. But you'll find new friends. And maybe you can just try sitting with your old friends from time to time, too. Maybe, libby said. It's just easier said than done. Most worthwhile things are, her mum replied, pulling ingredients from the fridge. But in the meantime, you've got us. And apparently you have a very dedicated art curator who thinks you deserve a personal gallery. They looked over at Margarita, who was sitting by her bowl with an expectant expression. Speaking of which, libby's mom said, I think our artist is ready for her evening meal. Should we do the honors. Like clockwork, they began Margarita's nightly routine. Milk refused with a disdainful sniff. Tuna ignored completely. Premium cat food. Not even a glance. Finally, her mom heated up a slice of leftover pizza and set it in Margarita's bowl. The cat purred loudly and dove in as if this hadn't been the inevitable outcome all along. You know, libby said, watching Margarita eat, maybe tomorrow won't be so bad. At least I know I'll come home to the silliest best friend anyone could ask for. Her mom smiled. That's the spirit. And who knows? Maybe your new homeroom will have some pizza lovers in it. Later that night, after brushing her teeth and getting into her pajamas, Libby crawled into bed with her sketchbook. Lately she liked to draw a little before sleep. It helped quiet her mind. Margarita hopped up and settled at the foot of the bed, beginning her nightly grooming routine. You know, Margarita, libby said, sketching lazy circles on the page, your art gallery was pretty amazing today. I don't know how you managed to drag all those boxes out of the recycling without me hearing you. Margarita paused mid lick and gave her a look that seemed to say, a magician never reveals her secrets. Libby smiled, adding some whiskers to her doodle of a cat. I was thinking about what mom said at dinner. About how I made friends before so I can make them again. It's just starting over is exhausting, you know, having to figure out who's nice and who's not. Who likes the same things I do, who won't think I'm weird for talking too much about books or art. She paused, tapping her pencil against the page. But then I realized something. When you first followed me home that day, I wasn't trying to make friends with you. You just showed up and now look at us. Margarita had finished cleaning her paw and was now staring at Libby with those big green eyes, listening intently. Maybe I've been thinking about it all wrong, libby continued. Maybe instead of worrying about whether people will like me, I should just be myself and see what happens. Like how you don't pretend to like tuna or cat food. You just know what you want and you stick with it. She closed her sketchbook and reached over to scratch behind Margarita's ears. Plus, even if making new friends takes a while, I already have the best friend anyone could ask for. You listen to all my problems, you make me laugh when I'm sad, and you create ridiculous art installations just to cheer me up. Margarita purred and bumped her head against Libby's hand. Thanks, silly orange cat. Libby turned off her bedside lamp and settled under the covers. Margarita curled up in her favorite spot, her purring a steady, comforting sound in the darkness. As Libby drifted towards sleep, she felt much less glum about her homeroom situation. All thanks to her best friend, Margarita. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight.